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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495857">Deep in my Soul: Cellist Series Part 4</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin'>desperationandgin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Cellist [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Modern AU, it's a pandemic y'all, quarantine fic, six feet apart to be responsible</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:00:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie and Claire are separated, but Claire finds a way to cope.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Cellist [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>230</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Deep in my Soul: Cellist Series Part 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, the Cellist series began in December, as part of the Winter of Want collection. Because I needed something Christmas based and it was Jamie and Claire's first meeting, it just happened to work out that each month was happening in real time. Therefore, it's currently April 2020 in this series. Which means Jamie and Claire are having to detail with COVID-19 just like everyone else. I know, I know.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claire hasn’t seen Jamie in twenty days. Not face-to-face, not for an embrace or a kiss. When the virus began to spread, and Scotland issued shelter-in-place orders, it was Jamie who’d had to continue doing his job. Rescue personnel would always be essential, and because of the risks, Jamie made the decision for both of them to stay at the firehouse until further notice. They spoke every day, multiple times, and FaceTime was a blessing, but that didn’t make up for the fact that neither of them had the other to collapse with.</p>
<p>He’d only moved in with her on the first of March, and they’d managed two weeks of finding their new normal only to have it turned upside down. Claire had no idea how the apartment she’d lived in for <i>years</i> by herself could suddenly feel so empty without him. </p>
<p>The daylight hours have been filled easily enough; moving his things in forced her to purge some of her own and organize the closets. She works on the balcony garden and finally gets around to cleaning all of the cupboards. There are books to read and television shows to binge (<i>the trashier things she only watches with Sesh as her witness</i>). On the morning of the twentieth day, she begins teaching herself how to knit, but it comes to a stop once Sesh runs off with the end of her yarn. There are plenty of things to keep her busy during the day, but at night, after supper for one and something mindless on Youtube, all she can do is count down the minutes until Jamie’s call before bed.</p>
<p>Sesh arrives in the living room from down the hall, arching her back in a stretch before jumping gracefully onto the couch. Rather than go to Claire, the black cat plops down on top of a blanket Jamie brought when he moved in.</p>
<p>“Traitor,” Claire murmurs, but there’s an unmistakable lump in her throat. “I miss him too.”</p>
<p>As soon as the phone vibrates in her hand, she swipes to answer, greeted by an extreme close up of Jamie’s… she blinks, squints and, as he pulls back, realizes it’s only his finger accidentally in front of the camera.</p>
<p>“I thought Sesh and I were about to be scandalized,” she quips with a grin as his face finally comes into view.</p>
<p>“Wha?” he asks, clearly distracted as he nods at someone she can’t see, and a door closes somewhere behind him.</p>
<p>“Nothing, love,” she replies, smile fading a bit. “Is everything alright?”</p>
<p>The endearment is all he needs to fully focus on her, feeling the warmth of her even through the phone. Jamie gives her an apologetic smile. “Do ye ken how <i>restless</i> people are getting, Sassenach? ‘Tis only busier by the day, and I’ve agreed to pick up another shift.”</p>
<p>“You look exhausted.” She squints at his features on the screen. “When’s the last time you slept?”</p>
<p>“Only just woke. I’m no’ even sure what day it is anymore. Is it mornin’ or night?” He asks his question in half-jest with a sleepy smile. “I rolled over and called ye, that’s all I ken.”</p>
<p>“It’s a quarter to ten at night. You go on at midnight, then?” she asks, her heart still catching up to the knowledge that he’s essentially started his day with her.</p>
<p>Checking a piece of paper he pulls out of his pocket, he nods. “Aye. Which means I have a bit of time wi’ ye. How was day infinity of yer self-isolation?”</p>
<p>“I’ve given up on knitting indefinitely. Sesh supports this decision, just so you know.”</p>
<p>Jamie grins. “Fine wi’ me. I like being the knitter in the family.”</p>
<p>With one sentence, her heart leaps at the promise of endless days with Jamie coming home to her, his <i>family</i>. It makes their separation now seem small, an obstacle to overcome together and look back on as the time they knew <i>forever</i> was certain.</p>
<p>“As long as you promise to knit me a blanket in your spare time. Whenever that may be,” Claire adds with sympathy in her voice.</p>
<p>“Technically, I have some time now, but I would rather spend it speaking wi’ ye, <i>mo nighean donn</i>. Unless ye go to sleep on me.” He calls her after every shift - her rule, even if they only speak for a few moments, and she’s fallen asleep often enough that he now has a folder on his phone entirely of screenshots as proof.</p>
<p>“I’m not falling asleep,” she promises. “I miss you too much.”</p>
<p>His face softens as he leans forward, sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms resting on his thighs. “I ken. Christ, I miss ye, too. To kiss ye right now, Sassenach, would be heaven.”</p>
<p>“I would settle for your arms around me.” She never was someone who appreciated the value of a good hug. Not until Jamie wrapped her in his arms for the first time and she’d pressed in against the solid warmth of him. There was no going back then, and without him, there’s been a gnawing hollowness growing around her heart.</p>
<p>Everything she feels passes on her face, and Jamie feels frustration tug at him, recklessness and duty warring with one another as if the angel and devil were on his shoulders. “I promise, when this is over, I’m putting in for the time away and you and I are going somewhere verra remote and verra beachy.”</p>
<p>That pulls a smile from her, and Claire settles in on the couch. “So far, I’m very much enjoying this idea. Beaches and the ocean do sound appealing.” She hums. “The Maldives?”</p>
<p>“Aye, that sounds obnoxious enough to brag about when we’re home,” he agrees, enjoying the way she tosses her head back and laughs.</p>
<p>“I’ll start looking into it,” she promises once she’s recovered. “How have you been feeling?”</p>
<p>“Och, fine. Ready to sleep in my own bed again. Ready to stay in it wi’ ye for at least three days.”</p>
<p>“Don’t tease,” Claire groans, sighing softly as Sesh, who has apparently had enough of the conversation, jumps gracefully to the floor. For a moment, Claire’s eyes follow her cat all the way to the cello case in the corner. Jamie is saying something she’s missing as an idea slowly comes to her.</p>
<p>“Are you going to be busy in half an hour?” she interrupts, looking at him.</p>
<p>He squints at the camera. “I figured I would still be talking to ye in half an hour, Sassenach.” Confusion etches his features as he watches the wheels turn on her face. “Why?”</p>
<p>“I’ll call you back. Half hour,” she promises.</p>
<p>The video cuts off before he can get another word in, and Jamie stares at his phone, confused but not worried as he stands and stretches. He takes the time to wash up and eat something, and he’s finishing a sandwich she dropped off for him earlier in the week when she calls back. But it isn’t video this time, and he brings the phone to his ear. He doesn’t even have a chance to speak.</p>
<p>“Come outside.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t move as his mind tries to process what it is she’s asking. “Do what?”</p>
<p>“Jamie, come outside.”</p>
<p>The smile in her voice and the realization of what she’s saying both hit at the same time, and he’s on his feet, phone still stupidly to his ear. Leaving the building, he walks out into the car park, and there she is. She’s wearing the same black dress she always wears for concerts, but she’s makeup-free, curls loose and tumbling over her shoulders. Cello between her thighs, the light from the quarter moon is enough to make her glow, ethereal in the dark. There’s the space of a small vehicle between them - not close enough to touch, but near enough to see her face.</p>
<p>Claire smiles at him, takes in the look of sheer shock on his face, and begins to play. It’s a relatively known piece, at least the beginning - a Bach suite in G. She closes her eyes, the memorized piece falling away from the Prelude and segueing into <i>Allermande</i>.</p>
<p>As Jamie watches, he slips his phone into his pocket, and when she doesn’t stop playing, one hand moves over his mouth in shock and surprise. To play for him at home is one thing, but as the music swells and echoes in the night, his colleagues wander out in curiosity to watch and listen. She sways with the music, moves her body as if she’s the instrument and the cello is merely a tool for the notes to pour out of. She plays and the audience grows, but when she opens her eyes before beginning <i>Courante</i>, she only looks at him. </p>
<p>There may be others watching, but this moment is only for the two of them.</p>
<p>Vaguely, Claire is aware of the crowd, but her focus is intently on Jamie. She misses the nights after making love, curled on her side and tangled with him as they take one another in. His eyes are never so blue as they are after he’s spilled into her, loving her with every fiber of his being. Her eyes drift to his lips, missing the way he deftly and delicately moves over breasts, missing the way he claims her, strokes her.</p>
<p>She continues to play, and he continues to look right at her, moonlight catching the glint of burning gold in her eyes. He’s never wanted someone so badly and been denied it. His gaze finally drifts from hers to the long line of her leg, then up to watch the muscles of her bare arms, her nimble fingers moving as easily over the strings as they do along his body. By the time he reaches her face again, her eyes are closed once more. He realizes that she’s playing the entire piece, a full twenty minutes, and he brings a hand over his chest. The overwhelming love he has for her causes a tightness in his throat that he tries to swallow back, attempting to keep his emotions in check. He never did understand it, when people were moved to tears by music, but now he knows the feeling intimately, wiping away the dampness on his cheeks.</p>
<p>When the last note is carried off into the night, Claire finishes with her eyes closed and head bowed a bit. The applause snaps her out of it, smiling softly, almost shyly, as she stands and curtseys to Jamie’s co-workers.</p>
<p>“Alright, all of ye, go,” Jamie finally says, turning to usher everyone back inside, though he doesn’t miss the soft smooching sounds coming from Angus, shoving him in the back jovially as he walks inside. Once he and Claire are finally alone again, he stands with his back to her for a moment, eyes trained on the door as he waits to be sure no one will return.</p>
<p>“Did you like it?”</p>
<p>When he turns, she’s already placed her cello and bow carefully in their case, and she’s watching him. She’s pulled her jacket from the back of the chair, arms loosely wrapped around herself, looking at him as if he holds the answer to every question she’s ever wondered in her life.</p>
<p>“What in God’s name sort of question is that?” he asks, a tone of amusement making a smile break wide on her face.</p>
<p>“Just checking.” She steps as close as she dares to and studies his face. “I miss you, Jamie Fraser.”</p>
<p>It goes against every instinct he has not to reach out and touch her, to kiss the longing right off her lips. “Aye. I miss ye too, Claire Randall.”</p>
<p>“This is better than FaceTime, but it still isn’t enough.”</p>
<p>“Anything less than being able to take ye in my arms isna enough,” he agrees.</p>
<p>They lapse into silence, studying one another’s full bodies for the first time in days. It’s a quiet appraisal that ends when she speaks again.</p>
<p>“When this is over, I would very much like for you to spend one of those three days off doing nothing but holding me while we plan our future vacation.”</p>
<p>He smiles easily, despite hating that he can’t reach out and pull her into a very thorough and appreciative kiss. “I can arrange that,” he promises. “For now, all I have is the promise of days spent doing nothing but sunbathing and making love to ye.”</p>
<p>Just the thought of him over her, loving her, is enough to make her skin flush with warmth. “You are a man of your word. I’m holding you to that.” Her voice suspiciously wavers, the longing for him turning into an emotional note in her voice.</p>
<p>“I swear it, <i>a nighean</i>,” he vows. “I’ll never stop loving ye.”</p>
<p>“I never doubted that.”</p>
<p>For a few heartbeats, they stand in one another’s orbit in shared silence before a gust of wind makes her wrap her arms tighter around herself.</p>
<p>“Ye should go, Sassenach. Go, be warm and cozy wi’ a cup of tea before bed,” he urges. “I’ll call ye when my shift is over, aye?” His voice is gentle, wishing he could reach out and push a curl behind her ear.</p>
<p>“I love you. I’ll cook tomorrow and bring a few nights’ worth of suppers. Any other requests?”</p>
<p>“Only to have ye, so home-cooked meals will have to do.” He pauses, studying her again and once more feeling emotion swell in his chest. “Thank ye. For coming here, for barin’ yerself.”</p>
<p>“No one could see me but you,” she says with conviction, eyes on him, unblinking. “That was only for you.”</p>
<p>Those times she’s played nude, when he could kiss along the supple curves of one side of her body in an attempt to drive her to distraction - those were the moments she conjured with her music, and he understands her immediately. “Soon, Sassenach. No’ tomorrow, but soon.”</p>
<p>“Until then, feel free to send me salacious text messages,” she quips, moving to gather the folding chair up, putting it in the boot of her car.</p>
<p>“Oh, aye? <i>How</i> salacious are we talking, Sassenach?”</p>
<p>Claire contemplates it as she puts her cello in the back seat, then turns to face him. “I wouldn’t mind a photo or two.”</p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow. “That could possibly be arranged.”<i> Christ, this woman.</i></p>
<p>“I’ll see what I can do for you in return, Mr. Fraser,” she practically purrs. Then, with more seriousness, she blows him a kiss. “The best I can do for now.”</p>
<p>“I’ll take it,” Jamie says sincerely, his smile warm and tender. “Text me when ye get home?”</p>
<p>“I will.” She stands there, then takes a breath, huffing it out. “You have to go inside, or I can’t leave.”</p>
<p>Ducking his head, he smiles softly, then nods, accepting the burden of strength this time, knowing it will be her turn the next. “Goodnight, Sassenach. I love ye.”</p>
<p>“I love you. Be careful.”</p>
<p>Jamie turns to go, finally reciprocating her blown kiss.</p>
<p>“Always am.”</p>
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